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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28424085">Whump Dump</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunlightink/pseuds/sunlightink'>sunlightink</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Mystic Messenger (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Blood and Violence, F/M, M/M, Torture, Whump</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:07:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,230</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28424085</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunlightink/pseuds/sunlightink</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a collection of bits and pieces of things I’ve written as practice, prompts and miscellaneous ideas that I don’t intend to use for future fics. Multifandom</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>707 | Choi Luciel/Main Character, 707 | Choi Luciel/Rika</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Seven</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I can't type for long periods because of how my wrist is positioned in my cast(and tbh it still hurts), but I don't want to get out of the habit of writing/posting SOMETHING, so… this. (If you don’t follow me on insta or twitter- Hi! Welcome! And so I don’t get a hundred questions- I broke my wrist right before Christmas and it SUCKS)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Seven’s scream of agony only broke when the pain stopped. His body ached and burned, and he slumped forward in the restraints, gasping for breath. He didn’t even have the strength to shudder as Rika ran a deceivingly gentle hand through his hair. Her voice was thick with honey and poison as she whispered, “This doesn’t have to continue. You know what I want.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seven shook his head. “I can’t-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You can, Luciel. All you have to do is let go."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're </span>
  <em>
    <span>insane-"</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pain coursed through his body as a fresh scream cut off his words. This time, the screaming only stopped when his voice gave out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Seven...?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seven forced his eyes open, his gaze trailing over the stone walls until it landed on MC. “Yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tears rolled down her cheeks. “If I... don't survive-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked away, giving her what little privacy he could in their shared cell. “You will. I'll make sure of it."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>MC’s chains rattled as she shifted to be more comfortable. “If I </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I... I want you to promise you'll keep fighting.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re go-"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Promise.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seven sighed, letting his eyes close. “I promise.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>MC </span>
  <em>
    <span>would </span>
  </em>
  <span>survive. They both would. Hopefully. He just had to find a way out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rika held MC by the hair, pulling her head back to expose her throat. Her eyes were soft, sorrowful. Seven didn’t buy it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A knife glinted in Rika’s other hand. “I’m so sorry, Luciel. I’ve been holding you back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His heart stopped beating. “Don’t- Rika, please, let MC go, I’ll do whatever you want, just- please-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tears stained MC’s cheeks. She swallowed. “I love you, Saeyoung. This isn’t your fault.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The knife curved under MC’s chin. Crimson bled down the white of her throat. Rika released her and she fell to the floor, a crimson pool spreading around her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Saeyoung screamed and screamed. No. No-no no no- Not this-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everything was red. Then black. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zen kept his movements slow, staying in Seven's sight and keeping his voice low and gentle as he started picking the locks on the shackles. “It’s okay, it’s okay. We’re gonna get you out of this-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seven struggled against the restraints, his lips moving as he murmured something. Zen kept talking. “Just hold still, you’re okay, you’re almost out-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seven’s eyes rolled back and he thrashed against the chains holding him, his body shuddering and twitching uncontrollably. Zen whispered reassurances, unable to do anything else until the convulsions finally stopped. Seven groaned, his body going slack, but tossed his head, trying to look past Zen. Zen blocked Seven's view with one hand. “Don’t look.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seven whimpered, tears streaming from his eyes. “Get out of the way-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His words froze in his throat as Zen reached into the pocket of his jacket and removed a syringe Jumin had given him. It was a low dose sedative, but it would keep Seven quiet and still long enough for them to escape. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seven whined. “Don’t, please- I’ll obey, please-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zen’s eyes were full of regret as he spoke, pinning Seven under the weight of his body as he prepped the syringe. “It’s okay, Seven. I’m sorry I have to do this-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seven thrashed against Zen, begging as tears streamed down his cheeks. “No, I’ll be good, I swear, I swear, please-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zen pressed the needle into his neck, pushing the plunger down. Seven groaned helplessly, heaviness swimming through his veins, his eyelids fluttering. His voice was a pitiful whimper as he begged. “Please, I’ll obey, I promise… MC…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No! Don’t- don’t touch me!” Seven screamed, flinching away from Jumin’s touch. Seven’s eyes were wild, his chest heaved with panicked breaths and his body trembled with desperate fear. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not going to hurt you.” Jumin moved slowly as he carefully perched on the side of the hospital bed. He met Seven's eyes. “Listen to me. You’re safe. Rika can’t hurt you anymore. She can’t hurt MC anymore. Trust me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jumin almost expected Seven to yank his hand away in his panic, but he didn't. Instead, he relaxed a little, tears forming in his eyes. He let out a trembling breath. “I-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright. Everything will be alright.” Jumin said the words, but he didn’t believe them. How could anything ever be alright again?</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Yoosung</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The door unlocked with a click as Rika entered the room. Rika. His cousin, and his captor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Every step closer brought a creak of protest from the floorboards. Under a thin blanket, curled into a little ball, Yoosung listened to her approach. His teeth chattered from the chill. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rika’s hand rested briefly on his shoulder. Then it trailed down, dragging the blanket along with it. Yoosung whined, either in protest or desperation. The cold is so much worse without it’s scant protection. The open air was like ice against his skin.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shh.” Rika whispered. “This won’t take long.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s agonizing, to have his arm pulled out, drawn away from the slight warmth at the core of his body. To be forced out of his trembling ball by Rika’s deceptively gentle hands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a picc line in his arm, placed there by Rika shortly after he arrived at MInt Eye. Days ago now. Or maybe it had only been hours. Time was impossible to calculate here. Yoosung’s eyes cracked open, watching as Rika worked in quick and practiced motions. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rika flushed the line and cleaned the port, then took out the syringe, filled with blue fluid. Yoosung whined, his legs sliding weakly against the sheets. His fear went unacknowledged, Rika was already fastening the line to the syringe. She eased the plunger down with her thumb. The liquid inside it flowed out easily, down the line and into his vein. More of his heat was stolen as the drug mingled with his blood. The temperature in the room dropped with every beat of his heart.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not the room. Just Yoosung. It didn’t feel like it’s been very long since his last ‘treatment’, not long at all. He wants to ask, but the words are scrambled, scattered on the tip of his tongue. He can only whimper, small and fragile and so, so cold. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The syringe emptied slowly, Rika’s touch warm where she held his arm in place, even though he can’t struggle anymore. She’s warm enough that Yoosung tried to wriggle closer, enough that he tried to press against Rika where she perched on the edge of the bed. He’s close to tears from the exhaustion and the pain, but too drained to cry. There isn’t enough warmth. Yoosung shivered harder, his body growing more numb with every passing second. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rika clicked her tongue in what might have been sympathy, but Yoosung had realized she was actually incapable of pity. Of any real emotion. The syringe was empty now. Rika flushed the line again and stood to go.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yoosung reached for her, the chains binding him to the bed clinking dully. He could barely speak through the chattering of his teeth. “Please…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The blanket was drawn over his shivering form. Rika pocketed the empty syringe and moved away. “I’ll be back soon.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s comforting to know he hasn’t been abandoned. But it’s a threat too, more pain, more insufferable cold, would return when Rika did. Yoosung pulled the blanket up over his head, barely hearing as Rika walked away, the lock clicking into place behind her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He just wanted to be warm again.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Turns out, I had enough random clips to at least make the first chapter have a semi-cohesive plot. Who knew?</p></blockquote></div></div>
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